


The weight of it

by CandidCuriosity



Series: Bad days [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, implied comfort, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5110013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandidCuriosity/pseuds/CandidCuriosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason has bad days.<br/>Some days he wake up and cannot move because it is crushing him, the anxiety, the weight of it, his life and all his choices that has led to it. It is his life, death and life again. In those moments the only thing he can do is stay still, trying to work around it because it will never completely go away no matter what he does, he knows that now</p>
            </blockquote>





	The weight of it

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: the characters belong to DC comics  
> I apologize for any or all grammatical errors in this text.

Jason has bad days. Some days he wake up and cannot move because it is crushing him, the anxiety, the weight of it, his life and all his choices that has led to it. It is his life, death and life again. In those moments the only thing he can do is stay still, trying to work around it because it will never completely go away no matter what he does, he knows that now. The first time he woke up from the darkness and pain that sleep brings and realized he could not breathe, he panicked.

And then he woke again to find that he had passed out from not being able to breathe, not being able to _live._

But now he is aware of what is happening from the start. Sometimes it is like he is standing above himself looking down on the broken body of a boy that broke a long time ago, never quite able to bring himself back together. He knows that when the brokenness in him decides to pay him a visit, he can only wait it out. Like the storm is going to take him the moment he opens his eyes or the floor will swallow him the second he gets out of bed.  Looked inside one of his numerous safe-houses the only thing that can hurt him is himself and Jason _do not want to die_ , not really.

He only wishes it would get easier.  He want to live to take his second chance and do something worthwhile about it. Save people again and clean up Gotham in ways that Batman will never be able to do, that is the Red Hood’s task now. But sometimes he does not want to _exist,_ but he will. Because it is only a bad day, but sometimes one bad day turns into bad days.

He is curled up under the cover of his bed, trying to breathe properly. In out in out oxygen in carbon dioxide out, as long as he stays still and breathe he will be okay. The only thing that can hurt Jason now is his own mind. Then the phone starts to ring. Again.

He can hear it, but he does not have the energy to reach for it, not quite yet. It has rung before; he knows that. Sometimes it is quiet, only the sound of air hitting the fabric in front of his face and then the phone starts to vibrate and he has lost count on how many times it has stopped and begun again. The energy will come he knows that too, just, just not yet. And at times he is afraid that it will be Bruce calling, and he wonders if he would be able to take it. But then again Batman would never call the Red Hood, so why should Bruce call Jason?  

Every time the boy wonder: the robin that died and lived again, the terror of the criminal world: the Red Hood, Jason Todd: Gotham born and raised closes his eyes he see blood. Not the blood of his victims, never the blood of the ones he seemed fit to die. No, Jason will never regret killing no matter what Batman and his moral code say. No, it is not the blood of the ones he has killed, it is the blood of the ones he has not. Bruce’s, Dick’s, Tim’s, Damian’s blood, Cass’, Stephanie’s and Barbara’s blood.

It is a weird mix of fear and what if’s, what if he had killed them? What if they die because of him?  But most of the time it is his blood dripping from a crowbar, in his eyes, in his mouth, coloring a warehouse floor. At those times nothing can drown out the laughter in his ears, forever burned into his memory together with the clock hitting zero and the explosion tearing his body apart. Again and again never quite stopping, like a record on repeat.

And in moments like these when the simple act of staying alive is smothering him, it is his blood staining the bedroom floor.

The phone is quiet now, maybe they gave up.

But no, the phone is ringing again, and this time he reaches out to the bedside table and picks it up. He does not look at the caller id before he answered because he is afraid that if he does he will not have the courage to speak.

“Hello?” his voice sounds like he had been eating sandpaper, but his mouth is too dry to do anything about it.

“Jason! Shit, do you know how many times we have called you?” it is rare for Dick to swear, but there is an edge of fear in his voice.

“Jason where are you? I can’t trace your cell and you won’t pick it up, did you forget that we were supposed to meet up three days ago!”

The meeting with Dick and Tim about a case, Jason was supposed to bring information on a human trafficking organization. Guess they got worried when he never showed. But three days is a long time stuck under a cover. He must really be slipping.

“Jay! Answer me right now, you are freaking me out!” the well composed Nightwing nearly shouted into the receiver, “Have you been kidnapped?  Is something wrong what happened?”

“I’m, I’m not kidnapped” shit he almost sounds sick, “I just, something came up alright? Nothing I can’t handle” he had never let them see him like this; he had always pulled through, always turned up the next day with a smile, always survived.

“You don’t sound okay”

He does not answer that. The energy is gone again and he is already on his way back into that silent darkness, he knows he enters when he shuts down. He just cannot handle the worry in Dick’s voice, any other he would laugh and tease Dick but not today.  

“Jay-bird? Hold on okay? I’m coming to get you, do you hear me? Jay? Jason!”

 

There are hands on his face and fingers in his hair when he comes to. Dick Grayson is two centimeters from his face and the next thing he knows he is dragged out of the bed into the arms of his brother. Dick is too warm and is franticly talking to him. But Jason cannot hear him, he is too busy breathing again.      

**Author's Note:**

> Yay first fanfic in the DC universe!  
> thank you for reading!


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